


Infinity

by orphan_account



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Character Study
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-05 11:16:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/722657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They stretch endlessly, until the only remaining light is a ghost of the previous brilliance, an echo of breathtaking vivacity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Infinity

The archways of Touou middle school used to cast curious shadows while the sun set. Few clubs stayed as late as the basketball club, so the school grounds echoed with the sound of crickets, a herald of summer. Crick, crick, crick, and the shadows would lengthen. The darkness would stretch impossibly, reaching seemingly infinitely as the sky blazed red before sunset. 

Long after the squeak of the team’s shoes against polished wood died, there were still two pairs of scuffing against the floors. The smack of basketballs impacting hands, the sharp pants of two players syncing: they would carry on for hours after other students were already at home. The sliver of light that escaped the last open gym was the only light in Touou’s athletic wing. 

“Your passes are seriously a work of art, Tetsu!” Aomine would say, laughing and dazzling.

Kuroko would smile in return and run faster, spin stronger, and follow Aomine endlessly, impossibly. 

“You never say anything about my really bad shooting,” Kuroko would say later on their way home, “It’s my weakest point, isn’t it?” 

By then the streets would be threateningly dark, but under the streetlamps, Aomine never faltered or dulled. “Man, Tetsu, if your shooting was, like, a fifth as good as your passing, I would be a hundred percent in trouble,” Aomine would say and ruffle Kuroko’s hair, “Don’t look so gloomy. If you’re having fun, then it doesn’t matter how bad your shooting is.”

That smile, illuminated by the infinite plane of night sky, pierced Kuroko. 

“I have a lot of fun,” Kuroko would say quietly and extend a fist, “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Aomine would bump his fist in return, completely oblivious of to Kuroko’s equal joy and despair.

Their route diverged on an intersection where the neighborhoods lined their trashcans. Twice a week, they would hear the neighborhood’s boss-tomcat scrounging for food in the trash. Aomine, with an exaggerated yawn, would ruffle Kuroko’s hair and they would silently part. Kuroko would go west around a sharp corner, and Aomine would go north up a steep road.

 _I will follow you endlessly_ , Kuroko thought as he tried his hardest not to watch Aomine walk away, _even if you leave me behind, I will follow your basketball._

Kuroko would turn around to see Aomine’s back as he climbed the inclined road like a stairway to heaven, his teammate bright even though he was outlined by a million jealous stars. 

The moment that Kuroko always hated (loved), was when Aomine crested the steep road, and Kuroko’s longing reached for him, like shadows stretched to a sliver before the sun set, and Aomine would disappear, rejoining the infinite pinpricks of light.

I will follow you, Kuroko would think, despaired (overjoyed).


End file.
